Brave New World II: The Book of Revelations
by AnJL
Summary: Chlex. When the two most curious people in Smallville get together, it's going to spell trouble for a certain farmboy...
1. Coming Out

BRAVE NEW WORLD II: Book of Revelations  
  
~Not mine. Shame.~  
  
~Right, if you've read my other fics, you'll have the back story. If not, go and read 'em first! We're way into AU here, people. Time to move this thing on - when the two most curious people in Smallville get together, it's going to spell trouble for a certain farmboy...Starts off soft, but it will pick up. Promise.~  
  
1. Coming Out  
  
CHLOE  
  
My dad has to go out of town for the weekend. Normally, I'm happy on my own, or I go stay with a friend, but this time, my boyfriend is staying over. Dad's not happy, but in this state, I'm legal.   
  
Our relationship is a pretty well-kept secret. Our friends know that we're dating, but not that a few weeks ago I pounced on him - or that he pounced on me. It was mutual and wonderful, and it's stayed that way. However, we've only been together at his place. Staying the night at my house is a big step. It's going to make it public. Real.  
  
Hold onto your hats, Smallville! Chloe Sullivan, the weird chick, is bumpin' uglies with Lex Luthor, Son of Satan! Nope, still doesn't look real.  
  
Chloe loves Lex. Lex loves Chloe. Even more bizarre.  
  
But this -is- Smallville.  
  
I'm just freaking out because I offered to cook dinner.  
  
LEX  
  
I get in my car, drive to my girlfriend's house, pull up in the carport. Sounds so normal. It's anything but.  
  
I've been to the house before, but only fleetingly, the end or beginning of dates. Gabe Sullivan is an employee, after all, and we find it difficult to make small talk. Especially as he knows what I do with his daughter. I'm not the ideal candidate for your beloved only child's affections.  
  
Staying over is quite a statement for both of us. I love Chloe, but I could understand if she didn't want the world to know it. And anonymity has kept her safe - paranoid, thy name is Luthor.  
  
CHLOE  
  
I'm in the midst of a frantic hunt for the cheese-grater when the doorbell rings. Lex is standing on the step, and it's still a shock to see him here. He's got a white shirt on today, which lessens the whole grim reaper vibe. Just in case the neighbours are watching, I give him a big kiss. Then I pull him into the hall and kiss him some more.  
  
I worry that he'll think the house is too small, and then slap myself upside the head, because, hello, after the Bates Motel, it -is-. Still, he leans against the doorframe of the kitchen, sniffs hopefully.  
  
This is the first time that I've cooked for a man other than Dad.  
  
It's been just me and my Dad for a long while now. We take it in turns to cook, and we don't entertain much. So Lex is getting down-home spaghetti. I bailed on getting complicated - I'm nervous enough. As it is, he wants to hang about in the kitchen. Very like my dad actually, so I treat him the same way.  
  
"I don't need help - go play with the stereo or something."  
  
"I did science. I can mess about in a kitchen."  
  
"Breeding mutant killer vegetables is a completely different thing. Out!"  
  
He obeys. When I peer round the door, he's settled in front of the t.v. Being Lex, it's some heavy financial/political thing rather than the sports channel.  
  
It's taking a bit of time to adjust to seeing him in this context.  
  
LEX  
  
This is strange. I'm not used to being in a home. Everything on a human scale. It's a rather seductive thought - come home from work, sit in front of the news while Chloe potters in the kitchen, though I -would- have helped if I hadn't been chased out. Sit down and talk about our day, without other attentive eyes and ears. Compliment her on her cooking - I like good spaghetti. Drink the wine I brought. Cuddle on the sofa. Go to bed without having to take her home later. Knowing that we can wake up together.  
  
I'm actually rather nervous now, examining that thought.  
  
I'm part of Chloe's life now. She's let me in to it. She's part of -my- life.   
  
CHLOE  
  
Back from the bathroom and pause in the doorway. This is the bedroom I grew up in. Had fantasies in. And now one of them is made flesh, propped up on an elbow in my bed and smiling at me.  
  
"I brought my silk pyjamas."  
  
I put my hands on my hips.  
  
"Lex, you never -wear- your pyjamas."  
  
He looks down under the covers, mock surprised.  
  
"So I don't."  
  
LEX  
  
It's not about the sex. It's the intimacy. (And I certainly never had anyone call me their 'sex-mekon' before. She's a strange girl.)  
  
Breakfast time. It's a peaceful domestic scene. A girl (Chloe) sits at the table, whilst her boyfriend (me) shows off his ability to make pancakes.(I got Martha Kent to teach me.) It wouldn't be so bad, but Chloe is in just my pyjama jacket, and I'm in the trousers. Not a lot of room for misinterpretation there. Chloe seems quite taken with the idea of covering me with the maple syrup, and I'm feeling quite amenable to the idea, when we are interrupted by a knock on the kitchen door.  
  
It had to happen sometime - I just wish I had more clothes on. Nothing between me and total embarrassment but pj's and a spatula.  
  
"Morning," chirrups my love, waving a fork at our intruder. I sigh, resigned.  
  
"Pull up a chair, Clark."  
  
One of his uncanny abilities is being able to sense food from streets away. He boggles for a moment, before his metabolism gets the better of him, and he reaches for a plate. Stares at me.  
  
"What?" I'm insulted. "They're not going to poison you."  
  
"It's just..." He trails off, takes a bite. "Hey, these are good."  
  
"He's a man of many talents."  
  
"Not while I'm eating, Clo. I'm still getting used to the idea."  
  
"Which one? Lex the chef or Lex the lover?"  
  
It's too early to have points scored over me like this. I move the coffee-pot out of their reach. I'm still narked at being deprived of the maple syrup.  
  
"Play nicely, or no caffeine."   
  
"Coffee, too?" Clark is recovering quickly. I fend him off with the spatula - if I don't move fast, they'll have eaten the lot.  
  
CHLOE  
  
This is -very- strange. Lex suddenly displaying alarming domestic tendencies. What have you done with my boyfriend, pod-person? Good pancakes, though.  
  
"Why are you here, Clark?"  
  
He gives one of his blinding grins.  
  
"My Mom thought you might be lonely here, sent me to ask you over. Guess you have other plans."  
  
"Actually, I need to do paste-up today, I didn't get a chance to finish it yesterday." I give Lex an apologetic look. "I'm sorry, hon."  
  
"It's fine, sweetheart, I'll just hang about." A wicked grin. " Correct your spelling."  
  
Clark gags, swipes the last pancake.  
  
LEX  
  
Not only have I been deprived of maple syrup and half my breakfast, I've been left to do the washing-up. Chloe just smiled sweetly and skipped off to the shower. I catch Clark looking at her legs, glare at him.  
  
"You wash, I'll dry. And if you tell anyone about this, I will have you killed."  
  
He's taking it quite well, considering.  
  
CLARK  
  
I -so- do not believe this. Chloe and Lex are...doing it. And Lex cooking! Smallville is a weird town. Memo to self; x-ray the wall next time. And develop a cough. 


	2. At The Torch: No Smoke Without Fire

2. At The Torch: No Smoke Without Fire.  
  
LEX  
  
Chloe is grumbling over her desk, insistent that someone has been messing with her stuff. How she can tell in that midden is beyond me. The High School is oddly silent on a Saturday. It's still too early for football practice or whatever violent physical activity is in season. I amuse myself by reading the Wall of Weird.  
  
"Am I on here?"  
  
"Should you be? Oh, yeah, I forgot, bald and sexy millionaires are down the right-hand corner. Did I -let- this pass?" She waves an article at me. "Sports reporter. I think he types with his toes. Jockstrap!"  
  
I recognise these symptoms. Wordlessly, I pick up the 'Daily Planet' mug off the desk. Thus far have I fallen. Lex Luthor, millionaire barista.  
  
I don't bother with the student machine. If you want the decent stuff, look in the teacher's lounge. The room has the usual smell of cigarettes and quiet desperation. On my return, I just stand in the door and watch Chloe at work. A fierce little bundle of nosy energy, one part common sense to two parts snarky humour. My girl.  
  
Waking up this morning, I had no idea where I was for a moment. Far more colour than I was used to, cream and warm earth tones. Clothing, books and cd's piled haphazard. Great big X-files poster on the wall. A total expression of the owner's personality.   
  
She half-looks up, reaches out one hand, waves it impatiently when she doesn't get her drink.  
  
"Grabby." I hand it over before she gets nasty. "What's this week's lead?"  
  
CHLOE  
  
Someone has been in my stuff. Lex is anal about his own desk, doesn't understand that I know exactly where everything is. I guess for him it's a combination of boarding school training and general paranoia. aagh. Has this moron heard of punctuation?   
  
The god of boyfriends has brought coffee. Good coffee too. He's gone back to reading the Wall. That was what he was doing the first time I met him properly. Came into my office, and there was this elegant, demonic figure propped on my desk, talking to Clark.   
  
An odd friendship, that, despite the whole saviour bit. Clark gets on with everyone, all goofy charm. Lex is very self-sufficient and private - I don't presume to know all his secrets, don't think I want to know some of them. Still, they -both- hide things. Clark got really weird on me over that adoption thing, though perhaps I was being a bit insensitive. That file is still my guilty little secret. Along with the dodgy soft-porn scribblings hidden away in the private correspondence file.   
  
I close the last file triumphantly, slip up behind Lex where I can slide my arms round his waist. Have to peer round his shoulder, 'cos I'm way too short to see over.  
  
"Whatcha found?"  
  
"Something new pinned to the Wall. There."  
  
I fall for it, lean forward, find myself spun round, backed up amongst the clippings. Wicked blue-grey eyes. "See?"  
  
And we're happily engrossed in each other's mouths, and I've got a nice firm handful of Luthor butt, when we're interrupted again.  
  
"Mr Luthor! Miss Sullivan!"  
  
Principal Kwan. Haunting the halls on a Saturday. Doesn't he have a home to go to?  
  
Lex is far less freaked out than I am. After all, Kwan can't give the school's greatest benefactor a detention, much as he would like to. And kissing in a private office doesn't violate any school policy. He can't do very much but fume impotently, really. Still pretty scary. My private life is rapidly becoming a public life. Maybe we should just go make out in the Talon. 


	3. Out On The Town

3. Out on the Town  
  
LEX  
  
When I suggest the Talon for lunch, Chloe chokes. She won't tell me why, just keeps giggling.  
  
CLARK  
  
Business at the Talon has been much better lately. Even Chloe drinks here now, though she maintains it's just a good alternative to the 'Rich Roach Mocha' at the Beanery.   
  
Thumping bass from the street can only mean one thing. This morning was just so odd. Lex and Chloe are...lovers. Lex puts his hand in the small of Chloe's back, a small proprietary gesture that's going to piss her off if she registers it. Thought so, a Sullivan stare of death. I'm not the only person who noticed Lex actually making contact with someone. Lana has picked up some kind of vibe.   
  
"They're -acting- like a couple today."  
  
She doesn't know the half of it. I grin at them as they reach the counter, Chloe still ruffled, Lex calm and casual.  
  
"So which side of the counter are you on today?" I ask. A steely glare.  
  
"Friendship will only get you so far, Clark."   
  
Chloe scampers off to the bathroom. Lana pauses for a moment, goes after her. Lex starts to look deeply uneasy.   
  
"Today has certainly been one of surprises," he says, dryly. "First you turn up on us, then your school principal. Now Lana is going to be looking at me all day." Pause. "Probably imagining me naked."  
  
I blow hot coffee out my nose. Remember to make it look like it hurt, though I'm gaping enough anyway. He gives his best Devil-in-Armani smile.  
  
"That's just gross, Lex!"  
  
"Chloe doesn't think so." He relents. "How goes your campaign to woo the fair Miss Lang?"  
  
"Not so hot."   
  
Hot. Lana. Now I'm going to be imagining -Lana- naked. Or Chloe. Or both of them...  
  
"Clark, you're glazing out on me." Lex waves his hand in front of my eyes.  
  
"Uh, sorry."  
  
"Do you want a sandwich?"  
  
Bad thought. Do not go there.   
  
"Clark, you are starting to scare me now. Earth to Clark." Lex is looking at me in a very strange manner. My turn to bolt for the bathroom.  
  
LEX  
  
That boy is not right.   
  
Well, the truth is out there, now. Let Smallville deal with it. This town will take shape-shifters and fire-setters in its stride, freak out when two people display a little quiet affection. My girl comes back out, leans on the counter next to me.   
  
"What did you say to Clark? He went past me like he'd been scalded."  
  
"I have no idea. I think we just struck lucky on the Clark Kent gauge of strange."  
  
A blast of testosterone announces the arrival of the football team, shouldering in all determinedly macho, hung about with crappy jackets and cheer-leaders. I look at Chloe, catch her grin. She rolls her eyes.  
  
"We might as well get this over with."  
  
I am capable of the big gesture. I cup her face gently, she looks into my eyes, and the cream of Smallville youth gets treated to a display of osculation worthy of Hollywood.   
  
No, it's not mature, and yes, it's out of character, but it's worth it for the response.  
  
I look down into a face flushed with lust and laughter.  
  
"I think you just graduated to your own lead article."  
  
CHLOE  
  
When I mentioned making out in the Talon, I didn't mean it. However, the man can kiss! I can see at least one of the pom-poms glaring daggers.   
  
Did I just see that? Lana also saw us, dropped a tray, and Clark, clumsy Clark Kent, just caught it inches off the floor. Store that one away, Sullivan, and remember to breathe.  
  
Expect the unexpected with Lex Luthor. He's grinning like he just did the cleverest thing in the world, instead of embarrassing me - us. I bolt for a table, and he saunters after me, drops into a chair.   
  
"Are you ashamed of me?"  
  
"No."  
  
"Well, then. I like kissing you. I intend to go on doing it at every possible opportunity."  
  
"There's a time and a place, Lex."  
  
He raises his eyebrows.  
  
"Chloe Sullivan, are you trying to tell me that being kissed in public by Smallville's most eligible bachelor - in front of the popular crowd - doesn't bring out the John Hughes fan in you?"  
  
He knows my weak spot, because I'm going to laugh. And if I laugh, I'll have to forgive him. And he's right.  
  
  
~A/N Yeah, I know it's not a very SV-Lex thing to do. Chloe's Lex, on the other hand, has a nasty sense of humour. There is plot, honest. You just have to look veeeery closely...~ 


	4. Relative Values

~hmm, right, just seen 'Crush' - extensive re-write happening...AU, AU...Right, episode as stands, but without floating office equipment, because Chloe backs off, she's seeing someone. Just friends, she discovers the cartoon strip. Barn scene as stood. Still going to journalism conference with Clark, whilst Lex is at hospital visiting Pamela...~  
  
4. Relative Values.  
  
CHLOE  
  
Well, that was a crappy week. It was the anniversary of Lex's mother's death, and that made him cranky. Keeping out of his way led me to meet up with an old friend, who ripped off a Carrie, and ploughed our Principal back through his garage. Not to be flippant - that was really upsetting. Then Mr Fordman died.  
  
Lana's basically holding Whitney together, and exchanging deep glances with Clark. Clark...is hiding something.  
  
I told Justin I was dating someone - he didn't want to believe it. Discovering that cartoon strip...eeuw.   
  
I have a nasty bump on my head where he hit me with a horse-shoe, but while I was trying to get both my eyes focused, I saw Clark -appear- behind Justin, throw him into a wall. My head hurts, but I'm not confused. I know what I saw. I asked Clark outright, and he checked my eyes for concussion. But I know him well; he's hiding something. That was his 'oh, Pete must have eaten the last donut' tone when he tried to tell me I was imagining things. I hate being lied to.  
  
I want to ask Lex what he knows. I know he obsessed about the accident for a while, and I know him better than Clark does. He won't just let it drop. But I can't ask him yet. He's sitting in a little room, watching another person in his life slip away from him. He doesn't know I'm here. I made Clark take the bus back to Smallville without me, came to the hospital, because I knew he'd be here. So I'm sitting here, with a cup of coffee growing cold in my hand, and listening to Lex read poetry.  
  
He has a beautiful voice.  
  
"Starting from fish-shape Paumanok where I was born,  
Well-begotten, and rais'd of a perfect mother.."  
  
I always imagine his schools to have been like the one in 'Dead Poet's Society' - Whitman seems so fitting.   
  
I wake abruptly, when the cold coffee slips out of my hand, over my skirt. The voice has stopped. Panic that he might have left, walked past me, but no, he's fallen asleep, arm under his head on the bedside table. He looks so young like that. The woman in the bed opens her own eyes, sees me, sees him, and smiles.  
  
"You must be Chloe." she says softly, and I'm surprised. Obviously show it, because she beckons me in, with a hand this side of transparent. "He talks about you, described you. You -are- lovely."  
  
"Er...thank you." I don't know how to address her.  
  
"I'm Pamela." I can see why Lex clung to her memory; she has a warm smile and a warm voice.   
  
Our voices wake Lex, because he shifts, blinks instantly awake in that disconcerting fashion of his.  
  
"What are you doing here?" But he puts out a hand as he says it.  
  
"Trying to catch a ride back to Smallville in a nice comfy car?" I smile hopefully, and it raises a weak echo of his usual gorgeous grin.  
  
"Take this man home, make him get some proper sleep." Pamela orders me.   
  
LEX  
  
The only two women in my life to call me Alexander. They grin at each other. If Pamela likes her, then Mom would have done, too.   
  
I send Chloe off to wipe her skirt, because I'm not having coffee all over the upholstery. Pamela looks at me.  
  
"You be good to her, Alexander."  
  
"I will." I kiss a cheek that feels more paper-thin than it did last time. "I'll try and make it back next week."  
  
We both know that could be difficult. My father has stepped up his pressure on the plant, and on me. Knows I'm visiting Pamela, can't stop it, because the stubborn woman won't accept any of my money for treatment.   
  
I hate goodbyes.  
  
I know I'm being silent and grouchy in the car, but Chloe falls asleep before we reach the city limits, and I can catch glimpses of her profile as I drive.   
  
She wakes up when we draw up at the mansion.  
  
"My house got a lot bigger." she remarks, raises an eyebrow at me.  
  
"Stay tonight."   
  
I need warm arms round me, need to feel less alone. And I know she understands this, because she doesn't protest, just smiles at me, fishes out her phone, and won't her father enjoy that conversation at this time of night.   
  
***  
  
CHLOE  
  
Breakfast time, and Lex is in a better mood now.   
  
LEX  
  
I like seeing Chloe in this dining-room. The only other dinner guests here have been Victoria - 'the V-word that we don't mention, do we, Alexander?' - and my father. Some very bad memories, being replaced by new ones.   
  
Giving Chloe lobster for the first time was priceless.  
  
"It's bug. And it's looking at me." Suspicious poke. "A big armoured bug for dinner. How do you get it out of its shell?"  
  
Same way you get a Luthor out of his. Patience and care. Delicate hands with surprising strength in them, intense concentration, big excited grin. Throwing yourself into the fray with passion and fire.   
  
She's got something on her mind this morning. Biting that soft underlip, sidelong glances.   
  
Finally tells me. What she saw. What she thinks she saw.  
  
It's time someone else got to see the vault. Because if anyone can help me unravel the enigma, it's my lively curious darling. She knows Clark better than anyone else.  
  
There has been too much deception, too many betrayals in my life. I never lie to Chloe; this is the bedrock of our relationship. Something pure. A psychiatrist, should I ever let one within spitting distance of me, would have a field-day with the identification. Fairy-tale archetypes, Beauty and the Beast, the Goblin King, something dark and terrible that needs light and purity to rescue it. If I told Chloe, she would probably fetch said psychiatrist. So - I never lie to her. And I'm prepared to trust her with this.  
  
CHLOE  
  
This is a big step. By saying these things out loud, I've made another step away from Clark, the things I thought I knew. 


	5. Now Wash Your Hands

5. Now Wash Your Hands  
  
LIONEL  
  
Nobody else views these tapes.  
  
I'm not interested in watching the animal coupling - it's the tenderness that catches my eye.   
  
My son has developed another weakness. And yet...there is the potential for strength there. She has a strength and fire to her. She's kept his attention for longer than anyone but Victoria ever did - and -she- needed the tricks I taught her for that. Dear Victoria - all she really wanted to do was fuck her own daddy.  
  
There is no pleasure in corrupting innocence just for the sake of it.  
  
The way he touches her...  
  
Lili, your son has not lost the softness you bred into the line. Between us, we have created...potential.  
  
Another of those noisy gatherings in his library. Surrounding himself with children. The boy-king with his courtiers. Looking across the room to her, and a small moment of stillness between them.  
  
Have I found the weapon to break him? Or has he found a shield against me?  
  
I sent him to the town that changed him, sent him back to the fire. And he is emerging from it. Stronger.   
  
The other object of interest sits to one side, watching. My goad, Dominic, provoked a move from cover there. And Nixon...'faithful' Nixon, unsure which of us he hates the most. The one who blackmailed him first, or the one he ran to. Good little drones, bringing their pathetic offerings.  
  
Clark Kent. My son's saviour. Why does he harp on that subject? What worm burrows in his brain on the subject, that he spends so much time and effort and money? If it weren't for that little girl wrapping her limbs about him, I would worry. But I read the report, saw the simulation. If that is the case, then what have we here? A prospect. Mutagenic effect with none of the instability that has plagued other projects.   
  
Where do you come from, Mr Kent? Who created you? What agency placed you in the path of my son's destruction? Do I owe you a debt, or a curse?  
  
So many questions. I will have answers.   
  
I will keep watching. 


	6. Seen Through Other Eyes

6. Seen Through Other Eyes  
  
LEX  
  
Late at night, and we've talked our way round the subject. Come to the horrible conclusion that our mutual friend Clark is a meteor mutant. And we still can't believe it. Chloe, a little numb, has gone to bed. I came back downstairs, because I can't sleep when my brain is turning like this.   
  
I wouldn't have seen it, if I hadn't looked up at that precise moment, just a red flicker in the corner of my eye. A thin line in the panelling, a crack that shouldn't be there. I know what it is, even as I lever the panel up with a pool cue. Smash it to bits.  
  
There is a video-camera in my library.  
  
How many more of these fucking things are there in my house? I feel soiled, enraged.  
  
I am going to kill someone. My life on tape - not just photos but systematic surveillance. My life with Chloe. I know exactly who put the cameras there, where they will be.  
  
CHLOE  
  
I wake up when the door crashed open, unsure of where I am for a moment. Lex charges in, and he looks dangerous, wickedly angry. It's like he doesn't even see me, sweeps his eyes round the room, bashing a hole in the panelling, holding a handful of mangled metal and plastic.  
  
This is real. He pulled a camera out of the wall.   
  
I can't think. And then I'm throwing up in the toilet, and I just want to stand under the shower and -scrub-. Shaking and crying, and there's a hand on my back, and I whirl,  
  
"Don't -touch- me!"  
  
I might as well have hit him. Lex's face blanches, stark misery. Then I feel my shoulders go rigid under his hands, as he tells me it's going to be all right, and that he's going to kill whoever did this, and we both know who he means. Standing there, me in my t-shirt, him in a suit that cost more than my dad's car, soaked to the skin, and I can't tell if that's just water on his face or not.  
  
I can't stay in this house. And I can't talk to Lex.  
  
LEX  
  
She won't look at me, talk to me, just insists on getting out of the room, the house.  
  
After I take Chloe home, I make a call I never thought I would make.  
  
"Did I wake you? I need...a favour."  
  
Two people have ever scared me in my life. My father is the other one.  
  
One of my many schools, blowing off another counsellor, another boy in the waiting-room, younger. He'd lost both parents, not just one, though for all the notice my father took of me...Strange silent child, who took to following me around. I was never big on sleeping, too many nightmares, so I would slip downstairs, watch movies. And I would find this silent shadow, another night-owl. We didn't talk, just watched the bright alien images, absorbed the violence and glory, until I got expelled again. Strangest thing, finding him up on the roof of the school, outlined against the moon. I'd gone up there, for a drink and a smoke, and when I turned round, there was this kid watching me. Part of the fucking night, because I never even heard him. We haven't seen each other or spoken properly for a few years, since we each went off to do our own variation of rich-kid crazy. I've met him a few times since, and he talks now, works the room well, but he still has those blank eyes. I think my nightmares are bad, but I suspect his might be worse.   
  
He's the only person I can think of who would have an electronics expert to rival anyone my father can bribe. Two little rich boys with their toys.  
  
I am going to rip this house apart.   
  
***   
  
CHLOE  
  
I saw the vans go past today. Two sleek black anonymous vehicles that still managed to scream money.   
  
I still feel dirty.   
  
I still can't face Lex. I know he's tearing the place apart, feels as...violated as I do. But my skin crawls at the thought of being in that house again.   
  
I stood under the shower until the water went cold. Until my skin was raw with scrubbing. And I still felt - dirty. I can't tell my father - he thinks I had a fight with Lex, a teenage snit.  
  
Comes into my room, wants me to talk to him. How can I tell my father, a decent man, that his boss, his daughter's boyfriend, had -his- house bugged by the chairman of the company, -his- father. And that this is how their family is. And that the chairman has seen our private life, our sex life, up on screen. Make him live with that knowledge in the back of his mind, at work, in board-meetings. This is one of Smallville's secrets that will stay buried.   
  
Part of me knows that we have done the same to Clark, with our computer files and videos and scientific simulations. And when I think that, I know that I need to see Lex.  
  
Dad lets me take the car - wants to drive me, but I need to do this myself, need to drive in through those gates. Those black cars parked like sharks, teams of black-clad and efficient people carrying gizmos in and out, and I can't do this. Then, in the hallway, his face the only colour, Lex. He sees me standing there on the gravel, stills his first step. He understands. One of the black-clad minions steps towards me, is waved back.  
  
I walk up the steps. Through the door, stop in front of him. And it's not so hard to touch him, after all, because this is Lex, and why should I be ashamed of loving him?   
  
We sit in the library whilst they install or programme, or whatever. We don't say much, watch the industry, but his grip on my hand is almost painful.  
  
The leader of the minions suddenly appears at Lex's shoulder. He isn't dressed any differently, but he doesn't need to be. Like Lex, he wears power and wealth like another skin. Strangely, he also reminds me of Clark - same build and colouring, but polished.   
  
"The house is clean now, Lex. Your new system is in, password as requested. Only you and I know it. Any unregistered electronics, signals or microwaves, and you'll have instant lockdown and targeting." He turns to me. "If you have a mobile phone or laptop, ma'am, I suggest you turn it off now."  
  
I do, because I don't like the sound of targeting. Lex holds out his hand.  
  
"Thank you."  
  
"My pleasure. Aren't you going to introduce me?" And he produces a blinding smile, that nearly reaches his eyes. I've recognised him, of course, and he knows it. Hold out my own hand.  
  
"Miss Sullivan. Are you staying in Smallville long?"  
  
"She's a reporter." explains Lex, moving me sideways by my shoulders. "She will try and interview you. Run."  
  
It's the nearest to friendship I've seen him, with anyone but Clark. Maybe that's where the resemblance lies. The other man smiles again.  
  
"Maybe I could be persuaded..."  
  
Lex takes him firmly by an elbow.  
  
"And maybe the Knights will beat the Sharks this year. See you in the Skybox."  
  
He laughs.  
  
"A pleasure to meet you. Next time, I hope we have longer to talk."  
  
Gathers up his team and his rather overwhelming presence, and leaves us.   
  
Lex comes back, stops a little uncertainly, before I take the first step.   
  
LEX  
  
She came back to me. Standing in the sunlight, and I knew she had to make the choice. Was there something symbolic in the fact she had to step out of the light to come to me? Or have I just been up too long without sleep, running on coffee and anger? It no longer matters which one. She came back.  
  
Tentatively, she reaches out, slips her hand inside my shirt. Our own private gesture, fingers above my heart.   
  
***  
  
Later, she tells me what she thought earlier, about what had been done to us, what we have done. And she is right. But. But - I leave her sleeping under the quilt - we avoided -that- bedroom by mutual consent - and pad down to my library.   
  
But - I still need to know. And this makes me no better than my evil bastard of a father. I hate myself, even as I set up the machinery. 


	7. Starman

7. Starman  
  
CLARK  
  
I am so scared.   
  
I am sitting in a barn in the middle of Kansas, looking up at the stars and wondering which one of them I come from.   
  
I look like a fifteen-year-old boy - a fairly mature one, anyway. I'm quite tall, but I don't look -different-. I am, though. I don't think other fifteen-year-olds can pick up a tractor with one hand. Or outrun a bus. Or have bullets bounce off them. Or see through walls...  
  
I'm not normal. I don't know what I am. Mom and Dad call them 'gifts'. On nights like this, I think of them as a curse.  
  
I've taken to spending more and more nights out here, lately. Sneaking out after my parents are asleep. I can hear Dad snoring if I concentrate, could be back in my room before he looked round the door if I needed to, and that isn't normal. Deep down, I'm still angry with them for hiding why I was different.  
  
We have a spaceship in the storm cellar. The meteors that ripped into this town also brought me with them. I'm a goddam fucking alien.  
  
Either that, or I'm some kind of secret project. The meteors change people. But they make me sick. Maybe I was over-exposed to them? I know one person who has the resources to help me find this stuff out. And I can't tell him. Most people blame him, his father, his factory, for all the weirdness here. I had to lie to him. And he knows it.  
  
Chloe saw me do something, and then I had to lie to Chloe, too. And I love Chloe - I'm not sure how, like a sister, or like something more? But I know that she looks, looked, at me as a -boy-. I don't want to be a project , or one of her wall-clippings. That whole Eric thing was shitty enough.   
  
I'm fifteen. I need to talk to -somebody-.  
  
Lana - I need Lana to be normal. And she's the only thing holding Whitney together right now. She's a lot stronger than people give her credit for, but I can't just dump this on her - hey, Lana, remember when your parents died? Well, that was me - I need her to be there, so that I have a chance with her, as Clark, not some freak of the week family-killer. Selfish.  
  
Pete - I need Pete normal, too. Pete encouraging me to make an ass of myself at sports, without him worrying that I'll rip someone's arm off. Ragging on me to ask girls out. Pete, who accepts most weirdness in this town, even his secret crush dating his worst enemy, but who would freak at finding out that his good buddy Clark had been holding out on him.  
  
So - I have a choice. I can sit here, while my other two friends - the two most curious people I know, the two closest to me - put their puzzle together. Between them, they now have enough information to cause harm. To me, my family, themselves.  
  
Or.  
  
I need to talk to them.  
  
=Run=, the way only I can, and the world is so beautiful at night, this may be the last time I get to enjoy it, because I'm going to change everything, a wall, and I can =see= the i-beams, a shallow net of criss-cross lines, flex my knees and =jump=.   
  
Jump right in, because I haven't been left with a choice. 


	8. Lex, Lies & Videotape

8. Lex, Lies & Videotape  
  
LEX  
  
Running the tapes. Level III, the Luthor Wing at the Museum, my simulation.  
  
What the hell are you, Clark? 'Just lucky' too many times. Slow the frames to the least possible speed, and you're still blurred.  
  
Lifting two grown men? Adrenalin?  
  
I -hit- you, I know I did, because I have the same damn nightmare of your eyes through that windshield too many times. I have a Porsche that looks like someone took a tin-opener to it. Don't tell me water impact.  
  
You are always there when you're needed. Like in Club Zero.  
  
The only time I ever saw you hurt, was when that turbo-charged meteor kid went crazy. And when you were hanging in that field. With a glowing green stone round your neck, bringing back every memory of that day the sky turned to fire.  
  
But you aren't from Smallville, are you? You were adopted. And you have no medical records, except for that one incident. No other accidents that could have exposed you to the meteors. No blood-typing, either.   
  
Where -are- you from?  
  
Chloe told me about the adoption. She was upset that you were so angry with her. Guilty that she kept a record. A fake agency.  
  
If a sixteen-year-old reporter can uncover this much, then the pieces are all there for someone with a lot more resources to put together. We need to be one step ahead, solve this before anyone else. Whose holding this ace?   
  
United Metropolis Charities. Type it in. Search. Know what I'll find. Hope I'm wrong, and know I won't be.  
  
Oh shit. Fuck.  
  
There it is, and I know that zip code, that cover address. Under my hand, the plastic casing of the mouse crackles.  
  
I never wanted to have to learn Clark's secret this way. I wanted him to trust me, to tell me in his own time. Now, my pushing, my need to know, has endangered the only two people who mean a damn to me.  
  
Because if my father has found out what I think I know, then he -will- want Clark in a lab. And he will want Chloe silenced. I have never felt more alone in my life.  
  
My Chloe, peacefully asleep upstairs in my bed. Oh God.   
  
I reach into a drawer, pull out a key that I haven't used for a long time now.  
  
The shooting range. This is the most secret part of the house, next to the panic room. Nobody but me ever comes down here. And I don't do that often. Normally, I prefer the sword. But now, we're playing for higher stakes than ego. Load up a Mark19 Smith and Wesson.   
  
When I turn round, Clark is standing behind me.   
  
"How the hell did you -get- down here?" Without triggering any of the alarms.  
  
"Lex...I..." says Clark. Stops, gets an odd look on his face. Defeated, almost. And punches his hand through the wall. 


	9. Smoking Gun

9. Smoking Gun  
  
LEX  
  
I am standing here, while my friend pulls an unmarked hand out from four inches of steel.  
  
Those same hands pulled the roof off my car.   
  
Part of me wants to swing the K-frame Smith up at his face, because I am very scared right now. My friend has the capacity to bend metal and I don't know who I'm looking at. Given the propensity of every other meteor-affected individual to go some variation of insane, I feel I have a right to be very concerned.  
  
But this is -Clark-. So I stand there and look at him.  
  
"Lex, I swear, I wanted to tell you so badly, but I never told anybody before, and I didn't know how."  
  
"I asked you." I hear my voice rasp. "And you lied."  
  
"No!" He shakes his head. "Something...happened for a while. And when you asked me, I wasn't...wasn't..."   
  
"Indestructible. What -ARE- you, Clark?"  
  
"I don't -know-!" And he's still fifteen, dammit, because his voice is cracking.  
  
My hands are shaking, so I put the gun down.   
  
I still don't know exactly what I did under Rickman's influence, but I could smell cordite on my hands. The gun won't have an effect.   
  
"Why show me now?" But I know.  
  
"You and Chloe - putting the pieces together. I wanted to tell you before you found out, and I ended up on the Wall. Or in a lab."   
  
That hurts. It's true; if I had found this out when I first came out of the river, I would have wanted to, God, experiment. But this is my friend Clark. Trusting me not to. Please, trusting me. Because it's the middle of the night and we are a long way underground, and he got down here without setting off the alarms, and he isn't affected by bullets, and I really didn't know what I was doing when I came back to this cow-town that wrecked my life, and he saved my -life-. I outgrew my asthma years ago, but my chest is tight.  
  
Clark takes in the range, the gun.  
  
"Lex, is this...because of -Me-?" Raw and desperate. I shake my head, suck in air that doesn't want to come.  
  
"I think my father might be following my findings. You might be invulnerable, but - Chloe isn't."  
  
"Oh shit. Shit." He looks sick, then angry. "Dammit, Lex!"  
  
"I'm not responsible for my fucking father!" I'm angry and scared and tired. "He -owns- United Metropolis Charities, Clark. He put cameras in my fucking bedroom. He wouldn't hesitate to do -anything- ."  
  
"Does Chloe know?"   
  
"No." Can I keep this from her? No. "Clark, I can't lie to her. I don't lie to her."  
  
"Tell one, tell both, huh?" He's wavering on the verge of hysteria. Strangely, that steadies me.  
  
"Calm down, Clark. It's not like we haven't dealt with weird before now, is it? Now, let's get out of here, because it's cold down here, and that hole in the wall is freaking me out."  
  
I don't do personal contact, but he's starting to shake, and so am I, so I grab his shoulder.  
  
"You're still my friend, -whatever-."  
  
His eyes squeeze shut for a moment, and that painfully transparent face struggles, then he draws a breath, and we're going to be okay. And I wonder, how can someone whose emotions show so clearly hide something like this?  
  
It's warmer up in my study, but I still feel cold, need a scotch. I make Clark take one, too. I really don't think the law applies to him. Then I sit and stare at him. Hard.  
  
He stares back.   
  
"You better get Chloe." he says.   
  
He's still sitting there, looking crumpled, when I bring my sleepy girl downstairs. We sit on the sofa.  
  
And Clark tells us where he came from.  
  
CLARK  
  
Once I start to tell them, I can't stop. It's such a relief to finally say this out loud. Chloe, all eyes, curled up in the shelter of Lex's arm. Lex, retreating behind that stony face of his. My friends. At one point, Lex runs his hand back over his scalp, and I falter. But he doesn't say anything. I tell them all of it. The meteors, the ship, Lana's parents. How I've always known that I was different, finding out why after a maniac ploughed me off a bridge with his car. Lying to people. Watching the mess my life has made of other people's. The responsibility of trying not to hurt anyone, the worry of not being fast enough or strong enough all the time for everyone. What I am, what I might become. Whether I'll grow up, grow old, grow into something else. What I can't say to my parents. And when I run out of words, I cry.  
  
LEX  
  
Chloe does what I cannot. She puts her arms round him, looks at me over his bent head. And I put my head in my hands. Where do we go from here? 


	10. MIB

10. MIB  
  
CHLOE  
  
He looked so broken, so frightened, that I had to hold him. No matter what he is, he's still Clark, the goofy farmboy whose been my friend since whenever. And he feels warm and human under my hands, and we have to protect him because he trusts us.  
  
We take my car because it's less conspicuous than anything Lex has. Concentrating on the road keeps my mind off what else has just happened. This is just surreal. Not a meteor mutant, but something completely different. The car is full of a thick heavy silence. We're all processing this in our own way. Lex hasn't said a word, but he touched Clark's shoulder, just once, and that was enough. Clark is looking out of the window, possibly =looking= as well, because he suddenly says,  
  
"Stop the car."  
  
I do, startled by his tone.  
  
"There's someone in the Torch office."  
  
A light in the Torch office. Small wavering light, a torch, and I'm overcome with a mad urge to giggle, that's so appropriate.  
  
"I -knew- someone had been in my stuff." I'm vindicated. Then alarmed, because I know what's in my files.  
  
No problem getting in. Clark twists the handle off the door.  
  
Lex has a gun. It's in his hand, and he's cat-footing towards the door, boots it open.  
  
A dapper man in a suit. He looks like an accountant. It's Mr Olsen, the chemistry teacher.  
  
Clark suddenly =moves=, has the man in an armlock. Under his jacket, a holster.  
  
LEX  
  
"Right. Would you like to explain yourself, Mr Olsen?" Clark has the man's arms held behind his back, not hard enough to cause comment. I have his full attention; a loaded pistol will do that. "How much is my father paying you?"  
  
"I don't work for your father, young man. I work for the U.S Government. You don't need to know the department. Suffice it to say, we've been watching Smallville for nearly thirteen years now. We tracked -something- down in that meteor shower, but by the time we got our people here, all we found was a lot of hurt people. We watched -you- rather carefully for a while - one day an asthmatic, the next a healthy boy. With an IQ off the scale."  
  
"I always had that." I still have my gun under his chin.   
  
"But not the high white cell count. This whole town has an abnormal radiation level, and we still don't know the effects of prolonged exposure."   
  
"But...a teacher?" Though if they are monitoring the population, the generations that grew up in the aftermath...  
  
"This is a small town, Mr Luthor. It's very difficult to move new personnel in without comment or speculation. My teaching credentials are real, I can assure you." He moved his eyes sideways. "Mr Kent, you are starting to cut off the circulation in my arms; would you mind loosening your grip?"  
  
Clark, the idiot, obeys the voice of authority. Olsen twists, suddenly, goes for his own gun. There is a blur, a crack, and the man slides to the ground, his arm at an odd angle. Clark stares at the twisted piece of metal in his hand.  
  
"I think I broke some of his fingers." He whispers.  
  
"Good. Means he won't be following us around." I check his pulse. "Unconscious, that's all. You broke his arm, too, by the look of it."  
  
We leave him on the floor. I hand Clark his carkeys and his phone - an even more hi-tech item than mine - open the window.  
  
"Throw them."  
  
He does. I think geosynchronous orbit might be the words I'm looking for.  
  
So we have the government in our backyard, too. Tracking 'something' in the meteor shower. The 'something' is still shocked at knocking out his high-school teacher.   
  
Chloe finishes copying the files she needs to keep, then Clark trashes the drive - nobody is going to be recovering deleted files from that.  
  
"Come on." Already moving down the corridor. "We have another angle to deal with."  
  
And my blood is moving, because this is what I do, what I was bred for. Play the angles, call the shots, think on my feet, take on all comers and never, ever lose.   
  
~bugger. Just seen 'Crush' and I wanted Kwan to be my MIB - anyone else remember that he'd only been in Smallville six months in 'Hothead'?~ 


	11. Trust Fund

11. Trust Fund  
  
LEX  
  
Where we go next is the Kent farm. Down to the storm-cellar. Stare at the little ship.  
  
Put my hand out, touch the thing that gives me the answers.  
  
A flash-light, a shout, and I'm facing down Jonathan Kent. He has a shotgun to my chest, I have my gun to his face. Something like a sledgehammer up under my elbow, and Clark pulling the muzzle of the shotgun round, deafening blast. Martha and Chloe screaming. Clark standing there, smouldering shirt over a bare chest, his face blank terror. I didn't fire, I held my fire, fuckitall, the man just tried to kill me.  
  
Sitting in the kitchen, middle of the night and Martha's hands are shaking too much to deal with the kettle, where she's trying to give some normality to this surreal experience. Clark takes her by the shoulders, sits her down. Jonathan and I are still engaged in a staring match. This man is stubborn. So am I.  
  
"You have the -government- in town, Mr Kent. They tracked something down in that meteor storm ,and if you think I'm persistent..."  
  
"You break into my property in the middle of the night, Luthor, and if you think I want anything to do with you or your family..."  
  
And I'm angry with these people. With this man who has stared at me with nothing but hatred and contempt since he met me. The man who tried to kill me.  
  
"Please don't insult my intelligence, Mr. Kent. United Metropolis Charities traces back to Luthercorp. And my father."  
  
"Your father had nothing to do with it."  
  
JONATHAN  
  
I remember a very sick woman. Pared down to the essentials of flesh and bone. Blue-grey eyes the only living thing. And a smile that could charm the devil.  
  
"Jonathan, this is a surprise. How is Martha?"  
  
"She's well."  
  
I want to ask 'how are you?', but the words stick in my throat. I kiss the frail cheek, sit gingerly in the offered chair. Feel large and clumsy and out of place here, the same way I always feel in rich people's houses. Lillian Luthor.   
  
Lillian and Martha were at school together, drifted apart after Martha went to Met.U. She and Martha still write to each other, though the replies get shorter, the handwriting more shaky. Still, the indomitable will is still there. She needs it, being married to that bastard.   
  
I would never ask for his help. But I will ask for hers.  
  
Martha never knew what I had done. I just came home from Metropolis, told her it was settled. She thought I'd gone to some backstreet lawyer, wouldn't have touched -his- money. Lilllian set up the charity. Took care of the documents, bought off who she needed to. She wouldn't have bent the law for anyone else but Martha. Knew how much she -wanted- a child. Loved her own child fiercely.   
  
I tell them this. And her son looks at me with those same eyes.  
  
LEX  
  
All this time. All this time, these people knew my mother. My mother helped them adopt Clark. Chloe takes my hand. My hold on reality is slipping. My best friend is an alien. My mother was Martha Kent's friend. MIB's in the Torch office. The only solid real thing is the warm hand holding mine.   
  
CHLOE  
  
Oh my God. My life has turned into an X-file. Lex looks like he's turned to stone. How many more surprises can this night hold?  
  
LEX  
  
Martha holds her son. Puts one hand out to Jonathan's shoulder. Forgives him with a glance. Chloe holds my hand, the only life-line in this madness.   
  
Someone needs to break the silence.   
  
"We need to move the ship. Put it in the vault at the mansion."  
  
"Will it be safe?"  
  
"The only thing I've found that can get through my new security is Clark." I look Jonathan Kent right in the eyes. "You trusted my mother, Mr Kent. I might be Lionel Luthor's son, but I'm also hers."  
  
I see the moment when he accepts it. These people, this family, have carried the weight of this secret for so many years.   
  
The government might be able to march onto someone's farm to search it. A lot more difficult to march into my house.  
  
As I said before, I will do anything to protect my friends.  
  
Getting the ship onto the truck, strange little procession back to the mansion, unloading the thing next to the battered remnants of the Porsche. The two vehicles, in the stark spotlight, question and answer.   
  
Now, I have to deal with my father.  
  
"No." Clark. "No guns. I don't need one." He puts his hand over the barrel, and it gives like foil.   
  
I want to leave Chloe with the Kents. She's not having it. We don't have time to debate it. Clark gets into the car too, and I -know- I can't throw him out of it. Actually, I'm glad he's there. I don't need a gun either, now. 


	12. Sol Invictus

12. Sol Invictus  
  
LEX  
  
I hate this house.   
  
CHLOE  
  
Lex taps in a code, through the door, sweeps up the stairs. Knows exactly where he's going, and I'm running to keep up, but I want to see those tapes trashed, want some closure. Want to smack that evil creep into next week. Through rooms as beautiful and soulless as the mansion, dark and lifeless. Up and into a small dark room, lit by a silver wallscreen. And the devil himself straightening up out of the chair.  
  
"Good evening, Lex. To what do I owe the pleasure of this unexpected visit?"  
  
"Can the bullshit, Dad. You know why we're here."  
  
"This?"  
  
On screen, Clark =moving= through what looks like a museum.  
  
"Or this?"  
  
Clark takes one look, spins round with his eyes shut.  
  
Myself. On screen, arched under Lex, and someone has -seen- me like that. I haven't anything left in my stomach to throw up, but I want to.   
  
LEX  
  
My father and I don't touch each other.   
  
He doesn't expect Chloe. She doesn't slap him; a small hard fist drives into his jaw, sends him back in surprise.  
  
"You sick bastard!" Pummelling him, and no-one has -ever- hit my father. "Fucking pervert!"  
  
He pushes her away, tries to straighten himself. I take hold of her before she flies at him again, square up to him.  
  
"I hit a lot harder. You owe both of us a lot more than a fucking apology for this."  
  
He smiles.  
  
Being a southpaw is interesting. People instinctively defend from a right-handed blow. The impact goes up my arm, and I'm braced for another, hit him again, in the gut. Get one back in the chest, which rocks me. The two Luthors, reduced to brawling. He's bigger, stronger, but I'm angry. Every slight, every sneer, stealing my women, my memories. My most private moments, on a wall-screen. Threatening the only real friend I ever had. I'm not a toy, father. You made me, now deal with it.   
  
CLARK  
  
I have never seen Lex lose his temper before. Not like this. This is rage. He's going to kill his father. Chloe is still staring at the screen, with a frozen face. Then she picks up the console chair, and hurls it with such a scream of fury that it stops them. Bright flash and shards of glass, and I'm pulling Chloe back out of the storm. Drag Lex off his father, push Lionel Luthor so hard in the chest, he flies across the room, hits the wall with a crack. Pieces of electronic hardware going up like the Fourth of July, then darkness.   
  
Chloe crying quietly, Lex torn between going to her, and his father. Gathers her up, looks at me. Lionel groaning.   
  
I thought I'd killed him.   
  
And for one second, I didn't care.   
  
LEX  
  
Meeting his eyes across the room.  
  
"Lex..." Quiet, almost wondering. "I can't feel my legs."  
  
Clark =looks= at him, looks sick.  
  
"I broke his back."   
  
"It's a shame it wasn't his neck." Gaze still locked. "Let's destroy the rest of this filth."  
  
"He needs an ambulance."  
  
"Clark, I am not going to have anything in this room seen by another living soul, do I make myself clear? We destroy the tapes, and then we leave." I allow myself a smile. "After all, my father pays for such excellent security. If he's still alive in the morning, he can fire them for not preventing this."  
  
"Lex." Clark gets in my line of sight. "Stop this. Call an ambulance."  
  
"Destroy the tapes."   
  
"Lex." Chloe, taking my chin, looking into my eyes. "Don't let him die. He wants that. He'll win." And her eyes say, think of Clark.  
  
She's right. I take a breath. Think how I'm going to arrange this.  
  
LIONEL  
  
I can't feel my legs. Can't feel anything but a pain in my chest, then cold. And two pairs of eyes hating me. Their faces mirror each other, expressions of loathing. He holds her in the shelter of his arm, and her hand over his heart...he has gone beyond me.   
  
CHLOE  
  
Such excellent PR. Clark and I watch it on the news later. Head of Luthercorp injured in an explosion at his home. Dedicated son rescues him from burning building. Shot of a bruised and smoke-dirty Lex holding his father's hand as the stretcher goes into the ambulance. Only Clark heard what Lex was actually saying between those still lips.  
  
Something about living well being the best revenge.  
  
***  
  
LEX  
  
Late night. The hospital. He's conscious, half-sedated, tubes and wires. The dutiful son still sits by his bed, and he can see me, knows I'm here. Knows that I've got my hand above the oxygen tap.  
  
"Well, father. Here we are. ."  
  
His eyes flick sideways.  
  
"You aren't going to walk again. The spinal damage is too extensive. No more little Luthors to supplant me, so you're stuck with me now. Back at the head of my army, just like you wanted. Clark has taken Chloe home, now. They're safe from you. And they are going to continue that way." I pinch the tube between finger and thumb, squeeze gently. "I could make the whole world safe from you."  
  
It would be so easy to finish this. The world between my finger and my thumb. No-one would know. No-one here to see me. Every slight, every sneer, years of verbal abuse. Neglect, contempt, bullying. I'm what he made me. He knows it, I know it.  
  
"If the brain is deprived of oxygen long enough, bits of it die. Very simple, isn't it? Memories, bodily functions, sight, hearing..."  
  
Breathing a little more ragged now, signs of distress. I release the tube.  
  
"But that would be too easy. So I'm going to let you live." Suddenly pinch again. "Not because I'm weak. If I'd been alone, I could easily have left you in that room, set fire to it. But I didn't because I had Chloe with me. And I don't ever want her to look on me as a monster." Release. "No, I'm going to let you live, because you're broken. You're going to need help to shit from now on. And I want you know every minute of it. You get to watch me live a life that you can't touch. " I lean forward. "I know you -want- me to finish you. Not going to happen."  
  
Drop my hand away. Walk out of the ward. I feel - better.  
  
These hands are clean. I won't be the monster that he wants me to be. I chose not to be.  
  
I win. 


	13. Epilogue: Phoenix

Epilogue: Phoenix  
  
CLARK  
  
The Luthor townhouse was pretty well destroyed by the fire. Electrical explosion of some proto-type projector, according to the fire report.   
  
Lionel won't walk again. That almost crushed me. But I didn't kill the man.  
  
Lex promoted Mr Sullivan, took over the running of Luthercorp whilst his father was in hospital. Went through the files, the finances, the personnel. Dominic ended up in Estonia, or somewhere. By the time Lionel was in any state to try and take back the corporation, the independent company of Lexcorp had established itself. Medical bio-tech. Lex has promised me no military applications. He's working on spinal injuries - calls it heaping coals of fire.  
  
The ship is safely in the vault under the mansion. The Porsche, the video-tapes, Lex's research, all destroyed. I watched him do it. My parents are still afraid, but now there are more people to share the burden. My Mom has been pretty well turned inside out for stories about his mother. Being friends with Lex Luthor is complicated, but safer than being his enemy.   
  
Lex still lives in the mansion. He and Chloe are still a couple. They have a different bedroom. Lex had a team sweep the place for bugs. Then he had me do it.  
  
Chloe is incredibly frustrated at having the story of all time, and having to sit on it. We're back in school. Mr Olsen is still teaching chemistry, his arm in a sling. He knows we know something, but he can't blow his own cover. And he has no evidence. The meteors haven't stopped causing trouble - every so often, Chloe turns up in his office with an 'editorial for consideration'.   
  
I have other people to talk to, about the things I can't say to my parents. I'm still alone, but I'm not lonely anymore.   
  
The future is going to be interesting. 


	14. Author notes

~Right, Author here. Hi.  
  
To answer various questions that I've been asked;  
  
Sol Invictus means 'unconquered sun', and comes from the cult of Mithras, adopted by the Romans as the patron god of soldiers and businessmen. They used the phrase as a pun, since Mithras was a god of light and also the son of a god.   
  
I WILL be posting my Lex/Chloe wedding fic.  
  
AFTER I post the Chloefic 'Someone to Watch Over Me' that covers the backstory of 'Bedtime Story.'  
  
Order of stories;  
  
Leaving Normal  
  
Brave New World  
  
A Game of Pool   
  
Brave New World II: The Book of Revelations  
  
(BNW III - a WIP with a flagrant abuse of the show /timeline after I see 'Obscura' and 'Tempest')  
  
Nighthawks   
  
Someone to Watch Over Me   
  
(The Wedding!)  
  
Bedtime Story  
  
This is my canon, and I'm sticking to it. Any random stories that occur will be referred to by this timeline.   
  
U can e-mail me if u want any more info.  
  
Thanx for all the reviews! You like me, You really like me...(*grins*) Seriously, it means a lot.  
  
And to think, I only stopped at that t.v. channel to watch the fencers... 


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